crossoverfic | Warbound Prologue 3/4

author: bandtiobane
beta reader: pen 37
characters: Duncan Macleod, Methos, Joe Dawson

summery: Methos tells Duncan of a remor involving the allies of a fallen enemy.

A/N: I'd like to thank pen for helping me out on this.
and also I got a line from pen's and strangvistor7 fic of Chloe and the Immortals, good fic read when have the chance.
Here we learn the names of two of the genrals in the upcoming war.

Prologue 3: Duncan MacLeod

Duncan MacLeod kept his eyes on his inventory sheet as he walked through his antique shop. He sidestepped a display of bone china without looking up, and made a check mark on the list as he did so.

Duncan liked antiques because he felt they connected him to the past four hundred years. As an Immortal he always liked living in the past from time to time, yet mostly preferred to live his present life to the fullest. When wasn’t fighting for his life of course.

The sound Bach, Mozart and Chopin that filled the small, shop, took the worries of the day away.

As he finished marking off a Ming dynasty vase his list, he felt a familiar feeling, one that had kept him alive for over four hundred years. He felt a tingling sensation that spread through out his entire being. A sign that another Immortal was in the area.

When he turned around the soft orchestral music stopped playing.

“Where do you get the patience to figure out how to use these new-fangled gadgets?” a familiar voice sounded in the front of his shop.

“Hello Methos,” Duncan with a roll of his eyes,

A tall thin man came around the shelf with Duncan’s I-pod in his hands. His face was a mask of frustrated concentration as he examined it. Now and then he let out a grunt of frustration as he pushed on the click-wheel.

“This is one of the worst things about being my age,” Methos told him, “Just when you get used to the CD player, they come out with these little headaches.”

”That’s why we adapt,” Duncan said as he took the I-pod from Methos’s hands. “If we didn’t we would all still be wearing kilts.”

Duncan looked at his I-pod and saw Methos had accidentally erased all the songs on it.

“I take there is a reason you’re here?” he said with an annoyed frown as he walked to his computer to begin the long task of downloading everything that Methos erased. “I’m kind of busy right now, so unless here to help.”

“Perish the thought,” Methos smirked, “I actually came to tell you of an interesting little rumor that is spreading among The Watchers.”

Duncan looked up at the mention of the Watchers. The group of men and women, who had dedicated their lives to the study and understanding The Immortals.

“Apparently sixteen of them suddenly had vanished,” Methos said as he crossed the room to examine a Roman dagger, “This is a fake by the way.”

“Where were they last seen?” Duncan said pointedly ignored Methos’ jab about of the dagger.

“Last I heard they were all in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,” Methos said as put down the dagger and picked up small copper statuette of a horse, “Apparently they were there to observe a gathering of eight very dangerous Immortals.”

“Who were these Immortals?” Duncan asked with some concern. Anytime Immortals gathered like that in large numbers, it was cause for alarm. The last that there had been a gathering, his kinsman Conner had been involved. It had called too much attention to the Immortal community.

“Who knows?” Methos said as he continued to study the horse, “That’s not the part that will interest you. I did a little digging, and I was able to link them all to an old acquaintance of yours. Dose the name Kanwulf ring any bells?”

Duncan immediately knew the name. Kanwulf was the man who had killed his adoptive father. He had thought he had killed him in 1624, but he had inadvertently given Kanwulf his first death, making him an Immortal.

When Duncan had later returned to his homeland he had found Kanwulf posing as a priest. But this turned out to be a ruse so he would find victims to sacrifice to his god, Belatu-Cadros the Celtic god of war. He had taken Kanwulf’s head in their last duel.

“There’s more,” Methos said grimly. “The Watcher’s council speculated that this wasn’t a gathering to take heads. They think Kanwulf may have converted them all to his insane religion,”

He scoffed. “After 400 years, one would think that an Immortal could see through all this cult nonsense. But, they actually believe that there is some cosmic War of the Three Armies coming to fruition,” Methos said with sarcasm, “Good find by the way.” He said as put the horse down and turned towards Duncan.

“The last word we had from the Watchers was that they were looking to free the final generals for this war.”

Duncan mind flashed back to the year 1759, when he had been in Pennsylvania before the War of Independence. There he had seen his first glimpse of an evil that should not roam free in this world.

At the time, he’d stumbled across a group of men who called themselves hunters. They were not unlike the hundreds of fur trappers who ranged up and down the frontier from the great lakes to Kentucky. But instead of Bear and Beaver, they were hunting something far more dangerous: Creatures of the Supernatural.

At first he didn’t believe them. He’d seen many strange things in his life. But never the ghost that they claimed to hunt. That all changed after he’d helped to salt and burn his first ghost. For three years after that, he worked with them to find what they had believed were the most dangerous monsters of all, the first vampire and the first werewolf.

The history they had showed him said that the beast were once Romulus and Remus the twins who had found the civilization of Rome. After Romulus slew Remus, Remus rose from his grave with the thirst for blood and vengeance. Romulus went to their wolf mother for aid, she offered him the ability to transform into one of her kin. Since then Romulus and Remus had been locked in a duel to the death, not caring who got in their way. While with the hunters he learned what was myth and what was real, what can kill a monster and what can’t.

Eventually, they found them both. But at the time, they’d lacked the knowledge of how to kill them, decapitation, silver and dead man’s blood didn’t seem to have any effect on them. Instead they settled for entombing them in a cave deep within the earth and prayed no one would ever find it.

Duncan had taken small comfort in the fact that he could keep an eye on the cave for decades to come. Now, the idea of Kanwulf’s immortal cult so close to the prison made him nervous.

“Thank you for telling me, old friend.” Duncan said. “This bears looking into.”

“I thought you might feel that way, boy scout that you are.”

“You’re welcome to come along, if you like,” Duncan offered.

“I’m afraid I have pressing matters elsewhere,” Methos shook his head. “But if I hear anything else, I’ll be sure to send the information your way.”

“I appreciate it,” Duncan said absently.

Methos had walked out of the shop leavening Duncan alone to brood over his thoughts.

It looked like Kanwulf’s followers might be trying to find Romulus and Remus. If so, it seemed that the Immortal cult was determined to bring a Supernatural war down on them all, and right now, he was the only one who could stop it. Duncan had sworn never to be part of a war since the last World War. But this was a war between monsters and no mortal would be safe from their wrath. He had no choice.

Picking up the phone he dialed the number of Joe Dawson, his friend and appointed Watcher.

Joe picked after the second ring, “Dawson?”

“Joe? It’s Mac.”

“Hey, Mac,” Joe responded, “What’s up?”

“Joe I need you to send me the information on the missing Watchers in Pittsburgh.”

”How’d you hear about that?” Joe asked. He didn’t sound overly surprised that Duncan would know.

“Methos,” Duncan told him,

“Figures,” Joe said with a sigh, “Well I see what I can get and send it to you. Mac this wouldn’t happened to be because these guys were friends of Kanwulf?”

“Joe I’m sorry but I can’t answer any of your questions right now. If what is happening in Pittsburgh right now is what I believe it is, I need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Well let me close the bar for a few weeks and I’ll meet you there,”

“No,” Duncan told him, “Please let me do this alone.”

“What?” Joe said, “Mac, what if you get into some trouble. You may need help.”

“Joe please trust me on this and let me handle this on my own.”

“Okay,” Joe sighed, “but don’t go losing your head.”

“I won’t,” Duncan said, “Thank you Joe.”

After Duncan hung up with Joe he went through the task of closing up his shop and making arrangements to go to Pennsylvania. As he locked the door to his shop his heart began to fill with dread, wondering if it was already too late.